Messages from a Broken Past
by Michelphaba1605
Summary: RENTfic. Mimi and Roger are engaged. But sometimes on lonely nights, Mimi listens to her past. How much should she tell him?
1. Finding the Past

Mimi's Scrapbook

A fic written for my friend Missy. Love you honeybear!

I do not own RENT

Mimi Marquez sighed as she looked down from the small window of her cramped apartment. Roger, her boyfriend, was away at work playing for a new show on Broadway and wouldn't be home until at least midnight. So, she stared out at the busy streets below, alone with her memories.

Roger smiling, having been very drunk at the Life Café. Roger thumbing his precious fender guitar as he wrote another song. Roger sleeping, looking as peaceful as he could possibly get, what with his slightly insane life.

Stirring from her daydream, Mimi went to the old hope chest where she stored her most treasured possessions. And there, hidden beneath an avalanche of old programs and flyers from the Cat Scratch Club, was an old time worn Scrapbook.

Its front cover was adorned by her name, in gold letters, but they were cracked and peeling now. She had started this when she had come to America. Yes, there on the inside cover was her old passport, the ink brown and faded with age.

Name, Melissa Marquez

Age, 16

Sixteen. The night her father had come home drunk and disowned her. It was then that she had run away. Once she had come here, she had struggled to get around, using the broken English that almost no one understood. Too young to support her self, she wound up on the street. But the pain was still there no matter how hard she tried to forget. One day a young man, his grin already nearly toothless, had offered her an escape. It came in the form of a white powder, referred to only as X.

She lived in a world of wings and roller coasters. But once she got off, her world came down around her again. Teasing her, letting her dream and then dropping her cruelly into harsh reality. Three years. Three years of denial, addiction and pain.

Then she had found him. She came to the door, asking him to light her candle. He was in denial too. He was scared and alone. She drew him out, loved him. But it wasn't enough. He left and came back again, and she had nearly died. She would have if it weren't for him. Roger. No. She had to start at the beginning.

She pulled the worn passport out of the book and sighed.

_Flashback_

_A young Mimi sits on a small cot, below deck on a ship. She is pale with hunger and there are dark circles under her eyes. The one small glimpse of the sea she has is too painful for her to stare at. Laying down on her bunk, she tried once more to close her eyes. She smiles briefly as sleep overtakes her._

_She is woken by the jarring note of a whistle and jerks in surprise. "All ashore!" The captain spoke too loudly, obviously drunk. Mimi staggers to the top deck and gets off the ship shakily. Reaching into the pocket of her worn coat, she seizes her last remaining dollar. Holding the crumpled bill in her hand, she walks five miles to the nearest coffee shop. She walked in weakly and put the worn dollar on the counter. "Whatever's warm. Please" The last word is a low whisper and a tear escapes Mimi's clear blue eyes. The shocked owner hands Mimi a small cup of coffee, but takes it back and trades it for the largest they have. "Here, you look like you need this." The man smiles kindly and pushes the dollar bill back into the stiff cold hand. The coffee warms her numb fingers and Mimi smiles gratefully. She staggers out once more and crawls into a deserted cardboard box. Inside there lay a bloody syringe and a small bag of pure white powder, as fine as confectionary sugar to the touch. Mimi could see that the contents of both items matched. Almost as if in a trance, Mimi slid her new find into her arm, hissing in pain as a burning sensation spread through her body. Then all was black._

_When she woke again, a young man was standing over her, grinning down. "Little duckie's found my home, eh?" Mimi screamed in terror and tried her best to scramble away from his surprisingly forceful grip, but to no avail. Trapping her, he slid the syringe into the bag and filled it again, aware that Mimi was watching his every move. Inserting the sharp needle under her already bruised skin, he held her as she jerked and hissed in pain. "Little duckie will sleep now and it will be alright." He laid her down, not minding as her head hit the pavement with an ominous crack. He stripped her and forced the dazed Mimi to lose forever her status of a little girl._ _Mimi had awoken again dizzy and sick. She vomited repeatedly, noticing the blood that stained her tattered cardboard "home". She had been alone. Alone and with child._

_End flash back._

Mimi shuddered at the gruesome memory. Almost as if an angel had seen her fear of the past, the door to the loft clicked open. Mimi quickly hid the scrapbook and chest and embraced the snow covered Roger.

Burying her nose in his leather, wool lined coat. She nuzzled his shoulder, silently thanking God for letting her last another day. She hurried to the small hotplate that was their only heat source for food and removed the can of clam chowder she had been heating, spooning it into bowls. Roger sank into a chair, tired, but alert. Mimi sat across from him, their hands linked across the table. They both spoke at once.

"I love you"


	2. Listen to your heart

A/N: Another Chapter! YAY! Read and leave a review

I don't own RENT.

Later that night, long after sleep had come for Roger, Mimi was still awake, haunted by her past. Faces seemed to materialize in front of her, woven from the smoky fabric of memories . The toothless boy sneered down at her, just as he had so long ago. _"Little duckie…duckie…duckie"_

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the echoing ghostly call. There was no use in trying to sleep. It just wasn't going to happen. Mimi slipped quietly from the bed, holding her breath as Roger stirred. "Love you Meems, " he murmured. Rolling over, her sank back into the depths of blissful sleep. Lighting a tapered candle, Mimi tiptoed to the living room and got out the scrapbook once more. The first object she touched was a ragged baby bootie, torn and splattered with mud. The memories flooded her being in a whirl of violent shape and color.

_Flashback_

_Mimi, now very pregnant, huddled in the entrance to a bakery, looking lost and forlorn. Her dress is now torn and tattered, though a shawl helps to provide some warmth. A young girl comes past the doorway, her own mittened hand firmly encased in her fathers._

_"Daddy, can you help this woman? Please she looks so hungry!" The man's eyes look over her coldly, as if he were appraising a racehorse._

_"No Lalita, she is nothing but a beggar. Stay away!"_

_Tears threaten to spill down Mimi's cheeks, but before they can fall, the baby kicks Mimi hard, causing her to double over in pain. "OW!" The band of pain tightened, taking away her breath. The man and his daughter kneel beside her, lines of concern etched in their faces. They help Mimi to lay down comfortably and in time deliver a healthy girl. Her husky cry brings goose bumps onto Mimi's flesh._

_"Kara"_

_She had inherited every inch of her appearance from her mother._

_But her life was not to be with her mother. Mimi left the child on the steps of a church, much as it broke her heart. She had to face the facts. She was sixteen and a druggie. She couldn't raise a child like this. This was one thing she could control. She wrote a note and tucked it inside a blanket she had bought for Kara._

_To whoever finds my daughter,_

_I am too young to raise her and I want her to have a good life. So please, love her as the Lord loves us all. In time I will return for her._

_Melissa Marquez_

_Then, giving her daughter one last kiss, she left. The last sound she heard was the piercing wail of a child who had no one left to love._

_She went back to the family she had seen on the street, her eyes wide and afraid. Lalita tugged at her father's hand._

_"Look, it is Mimi!" Her English was just as broken as Mimi's own._

_The father smiled warmly at Mimi and took her hand in his. "I am sorry for the way I treated you, chica. Do you have a place to stay?"_

_Mimi shook her head sorrowfully._

_"Then come stay with us, Chiquita. You are as beloved to my heart as Lalita." Mimi could hardly believe her ears! Stay? With them? She must be dreaming! However, the man's warm grip was anything but a fantasy. Mumuring her thanks, Mimi went home with them. And she lived a happy, warm life with the man and his daughter. But alas, it was too good to be true._

_One night several months after she had been taken in by Lalita and Jose, she was awoken by a heavy knocking on the front door. Stumbling from her bed, she slipped on a bathrobe and tiptoed to the door._

_"Who is it?" she called._

_The response. several decibels louder than she expected, jarred her instantly awake._

_"POLICE!"_

_Now she was joined by a frantic Lalita and a resigned Jose. He opened the door and faced the men bravely, Lalita clinging tightly to Mimi._

_"You and your daughter do not belong here. You are nothing but filthy Spanish liars." Holding up a bag of dried leaves he continued. "Jose and Lalita Torres, you are under arrest for illegal residency and the smuggling of illegal drugs"_

_Lalita was not young, she was sick. She had had chemicals as a child that stunted her growth. So, both were handcuffed and led away into the black velvet night, neither saying a word. And Mimi? She had already escaped into another colorful dream. So she lived for two years longer, using her dreams more frequently as the pain of being alone increased. At least in her dreams there was hope._

_End flashback._

Mimi slipped the bootie back into her album and sighed. Kara would be five in two weeks. She had made a promise to her five long years ago and she intended to keep it. She had to tell Roger. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was time to wake him anyway. They would talk over breakfast. Slipping to bed, she kissed him gently.

"Morning love." He murmured.


	3. The Whirlpool

Chapter 3: The Whirlpool

A/N: Hi guys here's the latest chapter! Let me know what you think. Oh by the way I found this awesome website for rent .Mimi starts breakfast in the loft, and Roger dresses for the day. Coming into the kitchen, Roger sneaks up behind Mimi and wraps his arms around her slender waist and curving hips. Yes, Mimi was slender. Too slender. The HIV was slowly tightening its hold on her ravaged immune system.

With a startled shriek, Mimi turns, playfully hitting Roger on the head with her wooden spoon. She slides her hands up to his already tousled hair, pulling his head down towards hers. Their bodies meet seamlessly, and as they kiss, the world fades into a dreamy, smoky haze around them. All they can see is each other.

Some time later, they are jolted from their reverie by a distinct cough behind them, followed by the high shrilling of the smoke alarm, Mimi bats her eyes to clear the imagined haze, but it doesn't disappear. It wasn't haze…it was SMOKE! Mark, who had snuck in during the kiss, chuckled at the couple as he gestured toward the pan on the stove full of smoking eggs.

"Looks like there was more than one thing heating up this morning."

Roger mumbled something which sounded like "cocky bastard" and wrenched the small window open to clear the smoke out, while Mimi scraped the black eggs into the sink. Mark shut off the smoke alarm and the silence jarred their ears. When the kitchen was clean, the two boys scarfed down bowls of Cap'n Crunch. Mimi grimaced and excused herself, mumbling

"I'm not hungry."

Instead she returned to the cramped living room, taking in her surroundings. It was notably unkempt. The hope chest lid stood open, waiting to swallow any memory it might be offered. Sheet music and band posters littered the floor and Roger's prized fender guitar stood importantly in a corner. A small projector and screen stood next to Roger's stuff, blank, eyes closed. Yet the simplest touch of a button would arouse the caged pictures within. Little snippets of life, tucked away carefully, like a locket you wear, for the memory's sake.

In the center stood the small wooden crate that served as their coffee table. The small cracking scrapbook laid upon it, like the guest of honor at a king's feast, Mimi's candle beside it, standing sentry. Sighing, Mimi knelt before it and opened the cover once more, delving back into the past.

_After Jose and Lalita had left, Mimi had had no choice but to return to the soot blackened streets that could hardly be called a home. She became something less than human, an animal. Slave to the lusts of men for the small pittances they deemed to grant her. One in particular, she remembered._

_The man had been tall and thin, his yellowish skin a sign of Asian descent, further exhibited by his slanted, almond shaped eyes. Throwing down a five dollar bill, he pushed her up against the rough brick wall that bordered the alley she had been in. He had undressed her and forced her down, bucking wildly, his sharp, angular face leering down at her. _

_She fought and kicked to break free, but he only laughed coldly, a shrill siren in the empty night._

Closing the book, Mimi shuddered violently, though not from the cold that seemed to invade from the very cracks in the walls, though she and Roger repeatedly sealed them. There was no choice. She had to tell him.

"Roger? We need to talk"

Mimi told Roger. Everything. She expected him to be worried, confused, upset, but definitely not as angry as this. She looked toward the door of his room, which had slammed, but no sound came from within. Mimi went to the kitchen and made coffee, slamming doors and cabinets loudly, as if to remind Roger that she still existed. But of course, it was no use. She sat down with her coffee, but did not drink it. It grew cold and weak. Finally, the silence seemed to be pressing down on Mimi. She had to get out of there. Grabbing a pen and paper, she scribbled a note to Roger.

Rog,

I know that I once told you not to run from the past. I need to take my own advice. Going to Maureens for awhile. We need to figure stuff out.

No day but today,

Mimi

Grabbing her scrapbook and a scrunchie for her hair, she walked out the door into the swirling blinding snow.


	4. Baby Blues

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR! Sorry this took like 4 months but I kinda had awful writers block! hugs

Chapter 4: Baby Blues

Mimi knocked timidly at the door to Maureen's apartment. When no one answered she sighed heavily and turned to brave the swirling snow and slick streets once more, though she was more scared of Roger than any winter blizzard. Oh they were deeply in love, there was no questioning that. It was just that their emotions were so open, so…raw. They rarely stopped to think, and sometimes they hurt each others feelings in their rush.

Suddenly the door swung open and a blast of heat hit Mimi full force. Maureen's voice called her name and she turned quickly into the diva's warm embrace.

"Honey you're freezing! Get in here! JOANNE WE'VE GOT COMPANY!" Maureen's harsh abrasive voice echoed loudly in the small, though warm, apartment. Glad as Mimi was for their company, the sound did grate on her ears and she began to cry.

Joanne entered and laid her chocolate hand over Mimi's blue tinged one. "Hey Meems, what's wrong?"

Mimi didn't answer, she couldn't. She just let herself be led to the couch and accepted the coffee that was placed in her hands numbly.

Laying the scrapbook on the coffee table, she flipped to the newest page. A self pregnancy test had been taped in and it was pink. Maur and Jo, immediately comprehending, sat down on either side of her. No one spoke, and the gentle hum of the radiator lulled Mimi to sleep…

_January 15, 1996_

_Dear Miss Marquez,_

_We are sorry to inform you that your father, Jacob Marquez, has died while in our care. He died asking for you, saying "She's all I had left.."_

_He left you this._

_Sincerely yours, _

_Lady Maria Hospital for the Mentally Ill_

_Dead. The word echoed hollowly in Mimi's skull.. Each beat of her heart mocked her. Dead…Dead..Dead. The room spun and seemed to press in from all sides. 'Make it stop', she sobbed, 'Make it stop'. She slid the bloody needle under her skin again Then all was black and still._

"MAKE IT STOP!" Mimi jolted awake to find Maureen and Joanne holding her, rocking her gently. As her head cleared she realized that she had screamed aloud. And so she let the tears come, and they rocked and they rocked and they rocked.


	5. Shadow Of Hope

**A/N: I's Back! Sorry for the LONG delay. This is for my Alice. Lots of Love, Michelle (Mimi)**

_Humans have often thought themselves a higher breed than animals. However, we are animals at heart. We have their instincts, and emotions, though we may have a more clear way of expressing those emotions. And the need to reproduce goes without saying._

_Mimi knew this from much experience. First with her abusive father, who seemed propelled by some inner force once he started on her. Then, with Jose and Lalita the need to protect themselves, to hide from the threat of discovery. And now in herself, her desire for a forbidden substance. _

The desire hit her again as she opened her eyes. God, she hadn't needed a fix in ages, the stress really must be getting to her. As Mimi tried to move, to get up, she found herself still in Maureen and Joanne's embrace. Shit. They woke at the slightest noise. Gently, she worked herself free, moving out so they were holding onto each other.

Still dressed in her clothes from the night before, she tiptoed out of the apartment, leaving a hastily scribbled note on the counter

_Jo,_

_I went for a walk. _

_Be back soon,_

_Mimi_

Making her way to the old oak tree near the lion fountain in Central Park, she met an old withered man, who had the look of a moldy tomato. His skin was gray with ill ness and seemed ready to fall off at the slightest provocation. She handed over a couple hundreds to him, and took a minute plastic bag in return. The white powder gleamed in the weak sunlight. Without another word, she turned her back on the man and went back to the apartment, ignoring the violent kicking from her baby.

Mimi breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed Maur and Jo still passed out on the couch. Slipping back to the bathroom, she dissolved the powder in liquid and inserted the syringe into the major vein that lined the crook of her elbow, and waited.

Falling forward. Tile floor coming towards her. Her head hitting the toilet, vomit coming up, making her choke on a scream. She missed. All over the floor. She had to get a rag, clean it before Roger found her. Standing. Sliding in the wet. Falling backwards, dropping the syringe. A splash, a thud, and a gurgle. All went black.

Maureen woke instantly at the dull thud. Mimi. Jumping up, she raced to the master bath. "Mimi?" A moan in reply. She must have been sick because of the baby. Best to leave it alone.

An hour later, the strip of light still glowed from under the door. Maureen called again but this time there was no reply. Turning the handle, she found that the door was unlocked. Almost immediately she wished she had never entered.Mimi was faceup in the bathroom, pale and blue tinged. A syringe gummy with blood was on the counter, and the water in the tub shone a dark crimson. It was just like…April.

_The day April died, Maureen came in from a gig at the performance space, to grab her coat so they could celebrate at the LIfe. Entering the bathroom she saw the suicide note, written in glaring pink lipstick on the mirror. April was propped in a sitting position in the bathtub, looking asleep. The illusion would have succeeded had the water not been dark with thick blood, and foamed with bubbles where she had slid underneath. She screamed for the others, who came running, Roger trying to revive her, and Mark calling 911. On the counter stained with blood was the doctor's report. Both Rog and April…were HIV positive. She was gone, and he would soon follow. And all Maureen could do was watch and scream._

She screamed again now, beginning CPR almost immediately after somehow pulling the injured Mimi from the tub. Jo called 911, as Mimi stirred almost imperceptibly. There was still hope.


End file.
